


all the scars we carry (one month later)

by feldie



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, F/F, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Future Fic, Girls Kissing, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, One Shot, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:13:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24498508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feldie/pseuds/feldie
Summary: One month after the Battle for Etheria, Catra and Adora find all the scars they’ve left on each other—and discover they can get past them together.Season 5 spoilers
Relationships: Adora & Catra (She-Ra), Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 36
Kudos: 395





	all the scars we carry (one month later)

Catra knows Adora’s heartbeat.

She’s never told Adora, but if the world around them is quiet enough, she can hear Adora’s pulse underneath her ribs. It’s steady, strong, just like Adora is.

Catra’s ears flicker involuntarily toward the sound of Adora’s heart from where Catra lounges across one of Adora’s bedroom windowsills. The sky is the color of black leather, studded with moons and stars like ten-thousand jewels. They’re all still so new, and Catra wonders how many nights she could spend here and not finish counting them all.

It’s been two weeks since they defeated Horde Prime, and everyone is exhausted as they decide how to best help Etheria mend from the war. But as much as the planet needs mending, everyone on it does, too, even if it seems they’re all too busy. Adora has been so wrapped up in meetings and making plans with the other princesses the last few days, Catra has barely seen her.

Catra misses her.

“Catra.” Adora sounds a little surprised to see her—it’s late enough Catra should be curled up with Melog in her own room, sleeping. “I didn’t think you’d be here.”

“Is me being here a bad thing?” The words slip out before Catra can stop them, and her stomach burns with the old, familiar fear of not being wanted. “I can leave.”

“No! Stay.” Adora shuts the door behind her and leans against it. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Hearing Adora say she wants Catra to stay makes the burn in Catra’s stomach fade to a dull ache. Catra takes a breath to steady herself, claws digging into the windowsill, her tail swishing.

“The room Sparkles gave me is too big.” Catra looks at Adora. “Feels… empty. That’s all.”

Adora’s smile is tired, but somehow still smug. “Why’d you think my room would be better?”

Catra shrugs. “I knew you’d be here.”

Because Adora fills whatever space she’s in, and always has, ever since they were kids making one another promises that meant so much more than they understood then. Whenever Adora was near, Catra couldn’t help the way she stared longer than she should have. Her ears learned to listen harder, found Adora’s pulse, and memorized all the different rhythms it makes.

Adora’s smugness fades into a softness Catra still isn’t used to seeing Adora look at her with, and Catra blushes.

“I had trouble sleeping alone for weeks,” Adora says as she makes her way into the room. “I used to sneak into Glimmer’s room when I first got here so I wouldn’t have to sleep alone.”

“The sky keeps me up, too,” Catra admits. “Too bright. All those moons and stars.”

They remind her of Adora’s eyes when she turns into She-Ra. Thinking about Adora keeps her up at night, too. It has for a long time—maybe it always will.

“You ever think about how many years we didn’t see them?” Catra asks. “How long the sky was empty for?”

Adora gives her a strange look. “Not really.”

“Wonder if it would’ve changed anything. You. Me.“ Catra gestures to herself, and Adora, and everything, then shrugs, suddenly self conscious. “Makes me wonder if I’d had a reason to spend more time looking up, maybe all that light would’ve made me want to be better sooner.”

Because Catra regrets how long it took her to come home to Adora. How long it took her to say out loud that it was never hate she felt when she looked at Adora from the wrong side of the battlefield—it was always love, even when it was twisted into something ugly in her chest.

Adora’s pulse picks up for a moment before it calms. “I think we all try to be a little better every day. That’s what has to matter now.”

“I hope so.” Catra pretends to go back to watching the sky, but she’s still looking at Adora from the corner of her eye.

Adora’s gaze roams Catra’s face before her shoulders sag with exhaustion. Adora sits on the edge of her bed and peels off her jacket, then her shirt, leaving only a thin band of fabric wrapped around her chest. Catra swallows hard, her throat tight as Adora leans over the bed to grab a clean shirt to sleep in.

Then Catra sees the scars.

They’re thin, pink lines across against the smooth, pale skin that covers Adora’s muscled back. Exactly the width of Catra’s claws.

Memory blasts Catra backwards.

Catra hasn’t told Adora, this either—but she remembers everything from that day. Remembers when the girl she told to stay away came for her anyway, Horde Prime saying terrible things through her mouth, a world drenched green spinning out of control, and Adora promising to bring her home again.

She remembers her claws slicing into Adora’s back, Adora’s gasp of pain so close to Catra’s face she felt the air move. The way Adora’s whole body tensed from how Catra was _hurting_ her.

“ _You broke my heart_ ,” Horde Prime made Catra say.

But even though it was true, because of what happened that day, Catra knows what Adora’s heart sounds like when it’s breaking, too.

Catra didn’t know she left Adora scarred, though. Whenever they fought, no matter how they hurt one another before—Adora always walked away without a mark on her body.

Catra’s gasp is quiet, but not quiet enough.

“Catra?” Adora turns to look at her. “You okay?”

“I…”

Adora’s eyebrows furrow in concern.

“Adora… your back. The _scars_.”

“Oh.” Understanding floods Adora’s face. “It’s okay.”

“Okay?” A dark, bitter laugh bubbles in Catra’s chest, but she swallows it down, trying not to hate herself for what she did and failing. “There is _nothing_ okay about that.”

Adora comes to stand in front of Catra, forcing Catra to turn and face her—to face what she’s done. But Catra can’t and her eyes burn, so she closes them. It’s hard to breathe, and her face is hot. She can’t bring herself to look at the girl she loves, whose body will always carry the scars of Catra’s choices.

“They healed.” Adora takes Catra’s face in her hands. “And so did I.”

But even though Catra feels like she’s come so far from who she used to be, she doesn’t know whether she’ll ever heal all the way, like she wants to.

“Hey.” Adora traces a thumb along Catra’s jaw. “I’m here. I’m staying.”

Catra finally opens her eyes, which are blurry with tears. “You must really hate being stuck with me, huh?”

A hint of the familiar smugness Catra loves appears in Adora’s expression. “It’s not so bad. At least I love you.”

“You’re such an idiot,” Catra says with a weak smile, her chest tightening at the words.

“Yeah.” Adora pulls Catra into her arms. “For you, I guess I am.”

But Catra hesitates before returning the embrace, her stomach fluttering. “Can I—is it okay if I touch them?”

Adora’s breath is shallow as she nods.

Catra wraps her arms around Adora, listening to Adora’s heart speed up at her touch. She can’t help but relax at Adora’s warmth being pressed so close to her, at the way their bodies know how to fit together. Her claws retract as she touches Adora’s back, hands instinctively finding the raised lines of skin. She runs her fingertips across them, breath shuddering as she remembers leaving them there. Adora shivers, muscles tensing as Catra memorizes the way the scars feel under her hands.

“I’m not going to break, Catra,” Adora promises softly. “You won’t hurt me like that again.”

Catra holds her tighter, and this time, the choice is hers when she digs her fingers into Adora’s back and holds on—not to hurt, but to show she’s here, too. That Adora is staying, and Catra is, too.

Her claws don’t break skin. They don’t need to. Catra doesn’t have to try so desperately to cling to the girl she thought would never want her, because Adora already does.

“I’m sorry,” is all Catra says.

“It’s okay,” Adora answers with no hesitation. “I forgive you.”

The words loosen the knot Catra’s stomach has become. She holds Adora, and Adora holds her back. Catra traces the scars she left behind, and knows they’ll remind her for the rest of her life of where she’s been, and where she wants to go. They’ll remind her to be better every day, because all Catra knew for so long was how to hurt, and how to let go.

But she knows how to hold on now, and she won’t let go.

“Hey, Adora?” Catra whispers against Adora’s neck. “I’m tired.”

Adora kisses her forehead. “Then let’s go to sleep.”

So they climb into Adora’s bed together after Adora takes her hair down. They lie facing one another, their noses almost touching, breath warming the space between their mouths. Adora’s legs tangle with Catra’s as Catra’s tail winds around Adora’s leg. Adora’s hair spills across the pillow, bright like gold in the light from the moons and stars. Catra plays with the impossibly soft strands between her fingers, and can’t believe she’s this lucky.

“Catra?” Adora asks.

Catra purrs as Adora smoothes her thumb along Catra’s cheekbone.

“All the fighting we did,” Adora says. “Did I… ever give _you_ a scar?”

“Only one.” Catra swallows, remembering how it hurt, how she couldn’t leave it alone while it healed. “But it’s not a big deal.”

“I did?” Adora’s voice is small. “Where?”

Catra guides Adora’s hand to her ribs, where a rock sliced deep into her side years ago while she was fighting She-Ra. “Here.”

Catra forces herself not to shake as Adora’s fingers glide over the old, scarred skin, the mark almost erased by the time and things that happened between _then_ and _now_. Adora’s touch is light, shaking a little, and it’s an effort for Catra not to arch into the warmth of her hand.

“Did you ever hate it?” Adora whispers.

“No.” Catra thinks for a moment as Adora’s heartbeat quickens. “It reminded me of you. It kept you close, even when you weren’t.”

“I’m close now.”

“Yeah,” Catra says. “You are.”

Catra presses her lips against Adora’s. There’s a fire in Catra’s chest as Adora puts an arm over her waist and pulls Catra close, until there’s no space left between them. Catra winds her tail tighter around Adora’s thigh. She touches the scars she left on Adora’s back, the scars she can’t hate, because Catra loves every part of what makes Adora who she is.

 _Magic,_ Catra wants to tell Adora. _You’re magic, you always have been, I think you always will be._

But Adora kisses away Catra’s thoughts until there’s nothing else left but her. Everything is Adora, Adora is everything, and Catra is home there. She’s exactly where she’s wanted to be for as long as she can remember wanting anything. She isn’t alone anymore, and she won’t have to be again, as long as she keeps trying to be better every day.

She’ll learn how for Adora, whose heart is pounding out of control.

Catra puts her hand against Adora’s chest, and she listens. Because she knows Adora’s heartbeat—and it only beats this way for her.


End file.
